John Votano/Mary Gettier

     “Johnny” Votano  ’59  was one of the most unforgettable people I knew back in the day. I compared him to “DeNiro” in my bio as he was Wheatley’s  fiercely competitive “Raging Bull,” who personified swagger and charisma, but with a sharp tongue and  lively sense of fun. He and his fellow “paisan Matt Sanzone dominated the sports they played--football, track,  and wrestling.

     Who could forget Johnny  playing safety in a crucial game with a cast due to a broken collar bone simply because he was the best we had even with one arm? As coach Jack Davis later commented, no one --no matter what size--was willing to take him on.

     Married to our charming classmate Mary Gettier, they lived in Manhattan,  had a daughter, Gabrielle, and he parlayed his savvy and daring into becoming a successful real estate investor. We saw them at them at their cozy  apartment for a 20th reunion planning session, and I’m glad to have found a photo of him at the reunion  for the website, chatting with Gary Zebrowski, the quarterback who’d handed off to him on so many electrifying runs.

     Their charmed life started to become Greek tragedy when Mary died of cancer in 1983 at age 41.  Her funeral  in Williston Park was the last  time I saw John, one of the toughest men I’ve ever known,  openly shedding tears  for the woman he’d  loved so deeply.

      Four years later came another shock hearing that John, the lion-heart, had a massive heart attack that felled him at age 46. (Also shocking was subsequent news about a family friend/attorney , who spoke at his funeral , swindling orphaned daughter Gabrielle out of a significant inheritance. The lawyer was convicted of embezzlement and served a lengthy prison sentence at Sing Sing.)

     John will always live in my memory as a unique and iconic individual.  I can picture him strolling, with that distinctly bowl-legged strut, Mary at his side, ruling his heavenly kingdom as  surely he did  Wheatley’s halls and playing fields.

                                                               Paul Hennessy

Teamates-John Votano and Gary Zebrowski

20th Wheatley Reunion


Mary Gettier and John Votano:

The last time I saw them was when they hosted a planning party for our 20th Wheatley reunion. Mary always possessed a delicate beauty with a fragile, distinct kindness. She was special. And John-so virile-both a ladies man and a man’s man and someone you always wanted on your flank. They lived in a funky, mid-town, Westside Manhattan apartment, were extremely happy, and their love for one another was so very obvious to all. John and Mary had a teenage daughter whose name was Gabrielle. Gabrielle had the great misfortune of losing both parents when she was so young. She has an exceptional lineage, and I hope that she has found happiness and meaning in her life.   

Ken Martin


Anthony J Ibanez

Anthony had two daughters, Michelle and Kimberly, both of whom are married. He had a career as a professional airline pilot for private corporations and he traveled traveled the world. He moved from Long Island in 1979 and resided in Mahopac in Putnam County, NY. His hobbies included fixing up cars, skiing and golf.

Best regards,
Michelle Ibanez Fusco


Anthony Ibanez, 1999



Kevin Liebreich

When I moved to the Wheatley District in 8th grade, the first friend I had was Kevin Liebreich. I would ride my bike to his house in Roslyn Heights. I believe he lived within a few blocks of I U Willets. We would play board games and his mom always made us a nice lunch. He was a very kind person. Over the years we chose different paths and our friendship, although still there, waned. Looking back over the years, I am sorry that happened. I have heard from his sister that he led a happy and full life. That was good to hear.

Ken Martin

Kevin and his wife Patsy


Mel Miller:

Mel lived his life, when I knew him, like he was going to die young, which he did. He was one of the first of us to have a car and he had, as I recollect, two of them. They were both Pontiacs-one was a white sedan and the other a bronze convertible, and they were both very fast and Mel drove them even faster. I went to Jones Beach with him on numerous occasions with the top down, the wind in our hair, forever young. It is how I have always remembered him and always will.

Ken Martin


Jack Langlois :


My thoughts about our beloved Jack.

I got re-acquainted with Jack before the reunion at a dinner and after
during the course of his illness. My memories of these times are
conflated with those so long ago the echo of which washes over me with
warmth and understanding.

I visited Jack at Lenox Hill about weekly. Although he was dying, it was
always an uplifting experience to talk with him and Shinny. We talked
about many things. The economic disaster, books he had been given, his
new Kindle, and the classmates that meant so much to him. He was
amazingly achieved and yet ever so modest. Seeing himself as just a
man who made the best out of his life.

Jack was emotional--you saw it in in his eyes and in his bearing. So
grateful for the visits; he was not afraid to receive love. In fact, he would always mention
how much he appreciated our responses.

I visited Jack the day before he died; he was barely there and yet for
that brief moment that same grin and smile appeared with a hello and a

Does there need to be anymore said of the measure of this man.

The Captain of our Cheerleaders




Visit to Jack


On a late Saturday morning, August 6th, I visit Jack Langlois at Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan. The hospital is located in an upscale section of the city at 77th and Park-numerous poodles are being walked and uniformed doormen stand in doorways.


The main entrance is on 77th where many on call ambulances are parked. As I walk into the hospital, the first thing I see is a new baby being wheeled out, followed by a smiling family entourage, all Hispanic, and I think that as my friend dies inside, a newborn sees the sunshine for the first time. So it goes.


 Access to Jack’s room is easy. A security guard, at a high lectern, greets me and asks whom do I need to see? I tell him and he directs me to Jack’s room. After ridding the elevator, I go to the nurse’s station, inquire of Jack, and walk down a long corridor where my normal uncomfortable hospital feelings descend upon me. I detest hospitals.    However, duty often requires it and this time is different as I am visiting a friend from 50 years ago, one I had lost touch with in 1960 and who now is on his deathbed.


I walk into room 773, Jack’s room, and meet his wife, sister and another woman. Jack, lying in bed, sees me, smiles and surprised says, “Hi Ken! We are having a meeting. Please wait outside because I want to see you.” I say, “Certainly,” and step back into the hallway. Within a minute Jack’s sister, Jeannie, comes out. She confirms what many of us have assumed-that Jack is not well and does not have many more days with us. The other woman is an administrator with a hospice organization and is going over the arrangements between the parties.


A few moments later Jack’s niece, Jeanne’s daughter Kathy, appears. I had met both Jeanne and Kathy at our 50th reunion dinner at the Wheatley Hills Golf Club but unfortunately did not have much time to speak with them. As many know, Jeanne Langlois had married the late Tom Kull, class of 61, and a dear friend to many of us. His fierce independence and oft-reckless appetite for life was infectious to a rich number of friends. Tom passed away less than a year ago from the same pancreatic cancer afflicting Jack.


I comment to both mother and daughter how much Kathy looks like Tom. She has Tom’s eyes and I’m surprised and not prepared to have sudden and vivid memories of Tom Kull, but then rarely does one visit friends of yesteryear in their last days.


Gazing out the window looking down upon Park Avenue I again see many dog walkers and bicyclists and think back when at Wheatley Kull was chased on his bike by a big German Sheppard, pedaling for his life, an event that contributed to his fear of dogs. I turn from the window, pause and see in a dream-like reverie Tommy standing next to me. He looks at me and me at him-“Martino?”-“Yeah.” Tommy?”-“Yeah.” And our collective souls arise from our very precious past and yell in unison- “Lets get the fuck out of here,” and we run pell-mell down the crowded corridor, knocking over gurneys and nurses scurry and shriek and IV stands fly and we hit the outside street a running and I hear once again that precious, guttural, inimitable laugh of Kull’s and we find the nearest bar and put in a bunch of quarters in the juke box and listen to tunes and find a pin-ball bowling machine and slide the disc down the waxed board and  breath a sigh of relief that we got out of the suffocating death box of Lenox Hill Hospital.


My trance is interrupted by voices coming from Jack’s room. Most of the talking is coming from the hospice administrator. Trying to avoid the role of an eavesdropper, I nevertheless hear a lot of money talk. I think-how expensive to live and even more so to die. Not wanting to be party to any more confidential matters, I go downstairs for a break.


I return to the room just as the hospice lady is leaving. Jack’s wife, sister and niece go with her and Jack and I are alone. Jack says, “Sit down Martino,” and I do, next to his bed. On one count Jack has the look of death upon him-jaundiced, thin, little hair, and oh so frail. I hold his hand and his fingers feel like balsam wood, and I’m afraid to put any pressure on my grip. On the other hand, he exudes a resolute countenance, and I realize that he has made his separate peace and is ready for the end.


We talk of many things. At one point I mention that when coming down the New York Thruway for the May 50th reunion I passed two school busses from Clarkstown Public Schools. I ask if he remembers that game back in September of 1959 and he replies, while slowly nodding his head, of course, of course. To me it was the best football game we played as seniors, and I so state. Jack agrees. I mention to him that it was remarkable that he played center weighing only 140 pounds, and in that understating manner of his, full of quiet confidence and insight, he nods and says he weighed far less than 140 pounds.


I tell Jack that I never met his wife. He tells me how he met her. He was a visiting professor in Taiwan and Shinny was his student. They subsequently dated and married. I do not want to ask him too much about his personal life. The way Jack talks I assume he is very much in love, and me, I feel it best to be that way as one leaves our world.


Being in the room is both emotional and remarkable for me. I have not seen Jack in 50 years prior to this past May. We lost contact in our college days, never saw one another over summer breaks, and had not attended the same past reunions. In short, he lies before me as a stranger. But being in the room with him I feel that those 50 years didn’t exist. We speak, or so I sense, as if it is still 1959. Nothing has changed, nor has taken place in the intervening years, and Jack now lies sick and I want him to be better because you see he is once again my very close friend, I know him well and we have many memories to make….


Robin Rogers emailed me a letter that she wanted Jack to read. Jack can’t use his computer as much as he needs, so I read Robin’s letter to him. Robin and Jack’s parents were close in those years and the letter mentions some events they shared. As I read, Jack fluctuates between smiles and tears, as I do. I think to myself-how nice of Robin to do this and how much it means to Jack.


Jack continues to speak of the past. His memory is lucid. I am overwhelmed at how grateful he is for classmates who have been showing concern for his condition and he again swells up with emotion. And he shows no bitterness to me over his condition and fate.


We briefly discuss politics and current events. I give a quick take on how I see things. Jack nods, offers a few brief comments and somehow I feel, like I often did in the past, that he is above such topics, that he knows how things are, that he is indeed a very wise man. This, even as he lies before me emaciated and facing his last days.


Throughout our conversation, Jack continually reaches out to touch me and hold my hand. I am deeply moved but see that Jack is tiring and therefore get up from my chair. He motions to me to come closer. I bend over and his arms, thin as rails, come up and we hug. I arise slowly and then render him a salute and say “Semper Fidelis,” and ask if he knows what that means. He smiles and says, “Yes,” and I leave him.


Saturday afternoon traffic in New York City is relatively light during summer months. I slowly drive around the city and eventually park on a side street near Sutton place and find a quaint little park overlooking the East River. I eat half a sandwich and drink coffee and think of my visit with Jack. His stoicism and bravery impresses me, so much so that I find myself rethinking my own options at the end. The plan always was, should terminal cancer be my fate, to put my affairs in order, go into the woods and have an appointment with Dr. 45 caliber.  Jack casts doubt on that course of action. His grace and demeanor, while under such duress, and choosing to fight until his last breath, impresses me. Jack’s choice, like his character, remains noble.


I look at the river moving by and think of the past. At our 50th reunion we listened to many oldies that classmates had emailed in as their favorites. Jack, fighting his illness, did not submit a song, but for some reason I find myself thinking now of Buddy Holly, a rock and roll icon who died young while we were juniors at Wheatley. Obviously not knowing him, I always found Holly to be delicate and sensitive and somehow on this Saturday afternoon, as my friend Jack is dying, I see a common thread between the two, and glancing again at the river and its swale, as it meanders between the skyscrapers of Brooklyn and Manhattan, I know it does as well.  


Ken Martin



  The below is the New York Time's obituary of John D. Langlois:



LANGLOIS--John D. China scholar, historian and banker John D. Langlois died in New York City early on August 19th, surrounded by family and friends, after a courageous battle with cancer. He is survived by his wife of 43 years, Hsin I and other family members. Known as Jack to his many friends, he passed between the worlds of academia and finance as smoothly as he traveled between Asia and the United States. He took equal pleasure in unraveling the intricacies of Chinese history and the complexities of international finance. Jack spoke Chinese and Japanese with elegance, precision and wit, informed by years of classical study and practical negotiation. A Ming specialist and talented Chinese linguist with a PhD from Princeton, where he studied under the legendary Fritz Mote, Jack was Professor and Chairman of the History Department at Bowdoin College before embarking on a successful career as an investment banker. Jack held several senior positions with J.P. Morgan and Morgan Stanley in Asia, including Managing Director of J.P. Morgan (China) and Chairman of Morgan Stanley Properties (China). Combining his experience in finance and fluency in Mandarin, Jack served on the board of Directors of China's CITIC Bank, Shenzhen Development Bank, Bank of Nanjing, Bank of Shanghai, and the Agricultural Bank of China - one of the first and very few foreigners to do so. His discreet advice was valued by finance and treasury officials in both Beijing and Washington. He most recently served as Vice Chairman of Global Strategic Associates in New York. Jack continued work as a scholar during his finance career, contributing his deep knowledge of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) to the Cambridge History of China, presenting academic papers, and teaching a course at Princeton University. His gracious and subtle scholarship appealed to his colleagues and students, while his gentle humor and quiet integrity endeared him to his many friends on both sides of the Pacific. Funeral Services are private. There will however, be a celebration of Jack's life at a later date. In lieu of flowers, please send all memorial donations in Jack's name to The Pulmonary Education Fund, Lennox Hill Hospital, 100 East 77th Street, New York, NY 10075. For further details please send emails to or mail c/o Ms. Kano Mitchell, Global Strategic Associates, LLC, 445 Park Avenue, 10th floor, New York, NY 10022.

Published in The New York Times on August 22, 2010


Also in the Times that day was a guest book, essentially a blog written by Jack's friends and associates. You will see that our memories of Jack and his personality from over 50 years ago at Wheatley were confirmed in the recollections of so many he touched through the years. Two of our classmates signed the guest book. Some of these comments follow:

December 20, 2010
Jack was a client of mine circa 1991/92 when he spent some time in London. I provided him with a Mercedes Benz as part of his relocation to London with JPM. Jack was a true gentleman.. may he rest in peace...
~ Joe Sweeney, London

November 20, 2010
I had honor working for Mr.Langlois at Morgan Stanley and Countywide in Tokyo. He was the greatest person and the best boss i respect the most forever.
~ Jun Hong Ma, Tokyo, Japan

October 17, 2010
Jack was a JPMorgan colleague for many years; in particular, we overlapped in Tokyo Office 1989-1991.
In 1999, we worked together on a project in China, where I recall a great week with him first in Shanghai, and then later in Beijing where we were joined by Hsin-I Informative and gracious hosts, they walked the Great Wall with me, and also took me to visit the ancient tombs.
I especially remember a unique dining experience at the "Li Jia Cai Guan" family restaurant with them and Chris & Freda Murck.
More recently, Jack and I met last year at the Mandarin in Hong Kong, where as always he was most generous with his time and introductions.
But my greatest memory will always be his half-smile and twinkling sense of humour.
My condolences and very best wishes to Hsin-I and all Jack's relatives and may friends.
~ Tom Bain, Hong Kong

October 12, 2010
A gentlemen and a distinguished colleague, great to know you from Countrywide in Tokyo and Hong Kong, Jack. God Bless.
~ Newton Yeo, Tokyo, Japan

October 10, 2010
Jack’s passing comes as immeasurable loss to me and my family. I honestly could not believe it when I heard this last week.

When I sent birthday greetings to Jack last week, his wonderful nephew, Jeff Sung informed me of Jack's passing.

Jack came to our home in Beijing on Sunday, March 21 for lunch to visit us and to celebrate the upcoming birth of our second daughter, Timea who was born on Easter Sunday, April 4 of this year.

Our older daughter, Aniko, who is 4 1/2 years old, immediately became close to Jack senseing Jack's wonderful person and called him “Jack bacsi”, the Hungarian form for “Uncle Jack”. We had an absolutely wonderful Sunday afternoon at our home in Mapo, Shunyi District in Beijing. The memory of that Sunday afternoon is permanently etched in my heart and mind.

I have known Jack since/through our common mentor and teacher, Prof. Fritz Mote when I entered Princeton as a Freshman in September 1975. We got together from time to time in Tokyo and Beijing,where I have been working and residing since 1987.

Jack, we miss you enormously! You have always been an older brother to me.

Jack is in our prayers. We ask the Good Lord to keep Jack with Him in peace and love.

My wife, Na Yan-hong (Baranski) and I extend our deepest condolences to Hsin I.

August 25, 2010
Jack was a good friend from grade school through high school. So serious yet so mischievous. I'll smile forever thinking of him. Godspeed.
Margot Realmuto, Smith Montain Lake, Virginia

August 25, 2010
Mr. Langlois was the Freshman year English teacher for both of us. We remembered him as a very gentle person. He took us out from the classroom and sat on the lawn in front of the Luce Chapel, sang different American Folk songs and Christmas carols. He added the very romantic atmosphere to the Freshman little fools. Tunghai four years of college life were full of wonderful memories, Mr Langlois certainly was one of the best memories that we had. I still remember him playing 'Tsui Ying Ying' with his 'Big' feet, that was such a wonderful performance.

Hueh Jie Hsin I, we are so happy that you two had 43 years of wonderful marriage, our prayers going out to you and your family, may the beautiful memories with you always, we are so proud of him to be such a successful man later in his life.

Fu-ching Peng & Chih-chi Chang(class 12), Los Angeles, CA
~ Fu-ching Peng, Los Angeles, California

August 25, 2010
We will miss you in the summer, fall, winter and spring. We welcomed your smile,wit,and sharp intellect and keen observation.
~ HL & Max

August 25, 2010
Jack was a classmate at Wheatley High School. He was a fine person - a gentleman - even at that young age. We will miss him.
~ Dr. Paul Mann, Louisville, Kentucky

August 24, 2010

Jack and Aunt Hsin I are the most adorable couple I ever met. He might show to others he is a successful banker and professor. He is also a romantic husband and humorous guy. We will always remember you.




Ed Kritzler, Class of 1958:



(The following is an email written to Helen Kritzler, Ed's sister, by Paul Hennessy)



Dear Helen,

My heartfelt condolences on Eddie's passing. The news came as a shock because he continued in his writings to convey his special lively spirit that made me think he was still in life's catbird seat, especially with the publication of his book. about Jewish pirates (perfect subject for him, I thought).

Beyond what I wrote, I can only say I watched him closely in that oddly symbiotic ways sophs observe seniors, especially charismatic ones like your brother. I have memories of him crowing on the team bus and in the locker room after football victories in that first undefeated season, his wise-cracking way that reminded me of a James Dean-type cowboy, and--most of all--the stature of "Perlin and Kritzler, Kritzler & Perlin" the two lions, survivors of Mineola High's blackboard jungle, friends, but always rivals vying for who was the toughest top dog.

I've always compared their fearless, macho style to Israeli commandos who I met later in my life. Ed was a special spirit who will always live in our memories.


We share your loss. Hope you're well.



Paul Hennessy



(The below is an email from Helen Kritzler)


here are two videos people may enjoy first ed and me having fun on streets of new york

soon after he found out about the cancer


and a video of him and jeff philipson talking about stealing cars in highschool

while waiting for chemo


eddie continued to have fun every moment of the day even while facing death

at one point he said it was his best  year.

his heart opened more and he became very gentle and sweet.

though never changing his honest sarcastic humour!!


here's the last email he sent out\


Saturday night, 9/11/10

Dear Friends,


Win Some Lose Some:


On one hand, a year ago October, I found out I had cancer; on the other hand, since then my book has made the L.A. Times bestseller list a dozen times...and this Sunday it is #5 for non-fiction paperbacks ... Hmmm? Is that how life goes?

Anyhow, after seven months of ugh chemo and successful surgery at Sloan Kettering, I could pass for a scarecrow. But I am cancer free. Now, I gotta get back to my handsome self so that I can again wow audiences with here-to-fore unknown tales of New World Jewish adventurers who through sechel & chutzpa secured the freedoms Jews in the West enjoy today.


Other Book News: The Hebrew edition of Jewish Pirates by Kinnerett will be out this month and a French edition the following month. Also a documentary on the book will be produced by DCL Productions of Israel and directed by James Rosenthal whose credits include the History of the Jews narrated by Abba Eban.


So... Although it's been an up & down year, I am muy happy. Indeed, just in case I would kick, the Jamaica government -- three days before I underwent surgery -- held an award luncheon in my honor in NY at which I received the 2010 Marcella Martinez award for my ongoing contribution to the island's travel industry.


So, amigos, aside from resembling the image on a pirate flag, all in all it's been a great year. I'm now living in a Kingston apt. with new wife Marsha and little Regina who bonded so wonderfully with her new "sista", Eliza. I am not out of the woods yet as I have some complication from the operation that will require minor surgery back in NY, but hey, it just means I can catch up on the latest movies and have a pastrami on rye at Katz's.


Shana Tovah

Skeleton Ed



Jeff Stone


Jeff was a special person to me, and to many others, in that when we were together he totally related to what I was saying or doing.  He was also a very affectionate person and wasn’t afraid to express it.


Jeff married and had a child with his wife, Toni.   By that time I had left the east coast where Jeff was living but when we talked on the phone one thing that was clear was that he was so glad to have his relationship with his son, Gion – his son meant a lot to him.


Unfortunately Jeff and his wife couldn’t come to terms on their disagreements and separated.


Jeff had a real problem with drinking alcohol and with making an effort to stay in good health.  I tried to encourage him to take care of himself but I don’t think he really cared as time went on.  I’m afraid that those things were the cause of his death.


We lost a good person when Jeff died.  I miss him.


George Howell 



Walter Brunner, Class of 1961

A Remembrance Of  My Friend, Walter

by Mike Harvey   February 26, 2011
I once visited Walter at his sister Carol’s house south of Boston in 1978. Walt was in his familiar position – stretched out on the floor, his arm angled so that his head cradled in the palm of his large hand. He and I noted that it had been 17 years since we graduated high school. I remember him commenting, “God,” (he always pronounced GOD  like Tommy Kull would pronounce it  –  low, drawn out and under his breath-like, with the recognition  of some foreboding doom), “God, if the next 17 years go as quickly as the past 17 years, we’re all in trouble…..I mean (as he raised his voice while staring at me to make absolutely certain I was receiving the full import of it all) think about it! …..I mean… GOOD GOD!”  

Nearly two more 17 year round-trips have flown by and he has gone, sadly after a fall that left him alone for 2 days. Back when he was at Yale and I was at Rutgers, he would often quote to me, with great dramatic flair, John Milton’s line from Paradise Lost: “Down from Gehenna  or up to the throne; he travels fastest who travels alone.” I would quote movie lines and we would both quote Shakespeare. And so, I’ve been lately recalling Horatio, gazing bravely through his grief at the slain Hamlet: “Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!”  

May the sometimes unquiet, but most times uplifting, large soul of our friend, Walter Guthrie Brunner, rest in peace. And may he and Tom Kull be sipping a whiskey together in heaven….now that’s  a  thought to make us all smile, eh?


Thoughts of Walter

by Patty Kirk Hefferan


Walter and I lived across the street from each other on Sumter Avenue. We used to have a ball fighting with each other about the Dodgers and the Yankees. I was a Dodger fan. He was a Yankee fan. The Dodgers left long ago and now Walter has left us as well. I heard snippets of news about Walter along the years and he led a peripatetic lifestyle. He was always outside the pale. Remember when he ran for Class President and everyone voted for him because we thought it was a joke? He won and became a first class, diligent president. Sometimes Walter was a just a funny, quirky guy and at other times he could be quite a serious undertaking. He will always be in my memory with nothing but loving thoughts.

As to the other losses - Alzheimer's is the plague of our generation. As a nurse I have worked with mild to severe Alzheimer patients. It took all I had to care for them and the experiences near broke my heart. I pray for a peaceful end for those who are afflicted. I also pray that we find a cure. This is a terrible disease.

May God bless and sustain all of us. Patty Kirk Hefferan

The editor asked Ptty permission to share her thoughts on these pages to which she replied:

I forgot to say - yes, print my little piece about Walter. I wish I had the chance to see him again but life wafted him in many different directions. He may not have known this in life, but he knows it now. He is missed. And since the Dodgers moved, I'll grant him victory. Patty Kirk



Chuck Shaffer, Class of 1961

by Mike Harvey July 15, 2011

By now you most likely know that Chuck Shaffer has made his transition. It’s very sad and we can pray that the beautiful family he and Suzanne created will, at long last, experience some relief from their long, difficult sojourn now that God has come to gather one of his jewels…our sweet pal, Chuck. We were classmates and teammates. We played backfield football in tandem on those crisp, clear, sunny Autumn Saturdays…and sat on the bench together waiting at-bat on Jack Davis’ “Boys of Spring” baseball team. He was a terrific athlete, clean and steady. Chuck took a lot of chiding over being “the minister’s son,’ and nonetheless made it apparent on numerous occasions –Jones Beach blow-outs and rounding town – that he could party con brio with the rest of us fools. Modest at heart, he had a great sense of humor; I can remember clearly how often he would laugh convulsively at Hugh “Bulldog” Drummond’s fabulously comical antics.

I last saw Chuck when he visited with me for a few days in Manhattan in the late 60’s. He had just returned from a tour with the Peace Corps and sat there, on the seat of a big motorcycle parked on the sidewalk in front of my 4-story Lexington Avenue apartment building. He looked like he owned the world. That was the last time I saw Chuck. He never attended any of the Class of ’61 reunions and it’s easy to regret never having had the opportunity to know this good man as an adult. Rest in Peace, our good fellow, Chuck – you take a piece of each of our collective hearts with you.